Working-class hero

Wedge peep-toe pumps from Gabor. I have two pairs of these in different colors. I like to wear open-toe shoes at work in the summer. They are somewhat summery, but they still look professional. And wedges are extremely comfortable.

Yesterday turned out to be a quite long day. In Norway you have this expression about the "8 to 4" job. Which I guess is what you refer to as "9 to 5" elsewhere (I know my Dolly Parton, alright). Only, for most, this does not mean working from 8 am to 4 am in the morning, I guess. It was good that I was staying in a hotel more than 200 kilometers away from home, as Mr. Incredible would never have let me work that long hours. But sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do, right?

First session of training for a very important client (Just for the record, to me - all my clients are equally important, and they are ALL very important. Indirectly, they help me pay for my shoes, you know.) Unfortunately, things were not quite in the shape that we had planned for. Mostly this was due to technical stuff (of course), but I am sad to say that part of it was our fault. So I had to take some matters into my own hands that were originally not my responsibility. As I was sort of "held hostage" at the client site, anyway.

I do not mind putting some extra hours in either, really, as long as I have an employer that sees that this flexibility has to go both ways. Which my current employer really does. So that part is ok, no worries.

What really bothers me, though, is the fact that the hotel I stayed at seemed to be THE PARTY PLACE of this godforsaken place. So, tonight, I give you:

The Local Annual Conference for The Steel Worker's Union!

Nobody can make noise like 150 steel workers on free booze. Yay. Don't get me wrong, I do not have anything against steel workers. Not at all. In fact, genetically, I am 50% steel worker myself. (Yes, my dear dad is a welder). But, please, why-oh-why do you need to party like animals on a Thursday night (I know why, it is because you prefer to spent your PAID working hours, and NOT your precious weekend time on being hung over, I KNOW that). But, still? In my hotel backyard? Why?

So, to entertain me while setting up security, re-building calculation rules on global sales distributions and doing general housekeeping in our precious training application, I had a BAND. With a crowd of drunken males singing along. Yay.

Yup. The steel worker union does not play around when planning a party, no. There was a band specializing in Swedish Pop Music. We are NOT talking the very stylish ABBA, ohno. We are talking ancient Eurosong contributions (and other C.R.A.P.), like:

"Dover, Calais"
"Främling"
"Fångad av en stormvind"
"Diggiloo, diggiley"
"Hey, Mickey"

I could name more, but it would bring the memories back, and I am trying really hard to get over this. I had TWO hours of sleep last night. My jet lag made last night very bearable. But today has been real PAIN. Fortunately, the training class today was better, but I still have a tough weekend and a heavy date with an MS Excel spreadsheet ahead of me. And it feels like my head is going to explode. As I did some heavy carb-loading last night. Something my body does not appreciate. Want more of that sugaaaaar!

I will be arriving in Oslo very soon now. Where the love of my life is waiting for me in the kitchen with the tapas and cheese he has picked up from our local "Fromagerie" on his way from work. He is the best, he really is.

You know what the worst thing is, though? I think I would have LOVED being at that party downstairs at the hotel last night.